Red
by SparklesN'Vodka
Summary: A look into Spain's true nature, how he trully feels behind his happy facade. What thoughts cross his mind in the darkest moments... And what happens when they are hidden from the views of others for so long. He is a very passionate man.
1. Chapter 1

Red

A/N: Yesh I adore Spain and I absolutely love spamano it is one of my favorties :3 So criticsm is asked for it will help me learn... (so corny)

WARNING: GORE AND MY CRAPPY EDITING SKILLS!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia otherwise Romano would declare his love for spain 3

Chapter Uno~

Antonio opened his eyes it was still quite dark, it took him a moment to realize that he was in the bathroom leaning over the tub. He felt a cold metal in his hand, and something liquid running down his arms. It did not surprise him, this had become a usual occurance for him. To wake up in that color; a color he had grown to hate. No matter what that color would be a part of him, never leaving it was even woven into the pride and loyal colors of his flag. He had seen it many times before painting his lands, especially he himself. Caused by the very same object he held in his hand, he turned the object in his hand.

The shining silver blade with a intricate pattern of whorls and swirls, to represent his rolling lands and shores, but it had been stained with a forever red, of enemy's and now even his own. It trickled down the blade some dripping into the tub while some running down the handle and pooling around his fingers which he could not bring to release the blade. He lifted up his arms to look at the markings he had left this time; he was unable to clearly see them because of the drying red that coated the cuts. He rose to his feet walking over to the counter, he casually dropped the knife into the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

He was Spain, a land so great and so magical with mountains, rivers, beautiful coastlines, and large cities. Amazing cities that held his people, but he was also Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. A man, to humans he was a powerful man who could never die and had incredible strength, he truly was more vulnerable. His emotions were truly what betrayed him, exposed to centuries of poverty, change and war. So much war, such memories would never leave him, forever seared into his mind. He had to keep on though, for his Lovi; turning the faucet on. He began to scrub ruthlessly at the scabs scattered across his forearms and wrists. The scrubbing turned violent, he began to claw at his skin oblivious to the burning of his skin. The flesh ripped and torn from the constant abuse. When the red poured from his arms enough that the water running over them was almost pure red he stopped, sighing. He clenched his fist not even wincing as he held his arms under the water, without his scratching it was only maybe 10 minutes when the water had only a light pink tinge to it.

He knew he would have to cover them up once again, so that it wouldn't worry his Romano. He opened the cabinet to his left and pulled out his bandages, and skin makeup. He took the edge of the bandage and wrapped it around his right forearm quite tightly, not enough to cut off circulation though. Just where no blood would leak out from the edges, he did so to his left arm as well a little tighter though since it seemed that those cuts were deeper than the ones one his right arm. He knew he had to hide it now, it would be idiotic to just were a long sleeved shirt, or one with the bandages. He dabbed a little of the th liquid makeup on his forefinger lightly spreading it across the bandages. His motions had become robotic, a haze over his eyes, similiar to those of an addict during the high. Unlike an addict he was in no realm of happiness, only a dull forever pain throbbing. He may push it away but it would still be there forever in the back of his mind. When he hid it it only grew worse, but a true blow was when ever his one true love rejected him yet again.

He would tell Romano how he felt in a jokingly manner as not to trully affect the young boy wgho; would always knock him down crushing his hopes. It would not seem so on the surface but underneath all the fake smiles and laughs he was crying. He was sobbing silently over his rejection as it burned his soul, stamping his heart, with a forever scar.

As he covered the last of his bandages with the skin makeuo it was not noticable at a glance but if you stared at it for a minute you could tell it was a different tone as though his forearms and wrists had been tanned not the rest of his body. He put the bandages back in the cabinet stuck the makeup in his back pocket.

Cracking open the door he peeked out into the hallway, looking to his left; and looking to his right stepped out into the hallway. Placing his feet lightly upon the hardwood floors, he snuck to his bedroom. Closing the door quietly and locking it with a sigh, he walked casually to his dresser and pulled out an old long sleeve shirt that he would wear often. Slidding it on he turned to the mirror and looked to his reflection; the dark circles under his eyes and just the sad yet empty look in them. He kept staring unable to look away, he was captivated by his own vunerability; it was pathetic. He soon found himself glaring at himself in the mirror, he was angry at himself for being so weak; unable to take a small draw back from obtaining his precious Lovino. He wanted nothing more than to slam his face into the mirror, shatter the pathetic him. Rid himself of it, an unworthy part of himself; it was not a part of him.

He was Spain the country of passion, and he was passionate about very many things.

A/N: This is more or less a prologue chapter please review criticize, whatever you prefer even flames I could care less.


	2. Pulsing Heart Discovery

A/N: I took so LONG D: srry~

Warning: okay creepy shit and terrible personal editing skills

Disclaimer: I don't own hetlia D:

Chapter Dos~ Pulsing Heart Discovery

TONI POV

I opened my eyes realizing I fell asleep on the couch again, scanning the room around me it was still intact so I had not been drinking this time. Even though I felt like I had a major hangover,_ Mis Dios_. The pain in the back of my head was tremendous, it was a surprise I hadn't been drinking. Something caught my eye that was laying on the table, a bag of cocaine. _Damn it_, I must have went and bought another bag. 'I even told myself I would stop, so that when Lovi came to his senses we wouldn't have any secrets or problems. I am such a fucking idiot!' Slamming my hand down on the table, easily snapping it the cocaine bag having been open. Was lauched in to the air, it's contents flying out to cover the carpeted floor.

It was as though it had snown in a few spots, with how thick it was and how much was in the bag. It was such a waste, good "medicine", simlpe easy, and would make life alot easier, I had been snorting alot lately it seemed. I could feel the after affects still, a buzzing in my muscles and just the urge to hurt something. Anything really, I could feel the anger pulsing through my veins destroying the table had only seemed to make it worse, and wasting all that amazing cocaine. It was so, well as Prussia may say _Awesome, _and it may not had made me feel any happier but it made me feel more powerful. Having used it for years the effects weren't so obvious, and I could get away with it no worries.

When I snorted it my first time, Frances and Gilbert suspected something was wrong but with my amazing hispanic persuasion skills I was able to get them to lay off my back. They suspected for a while after they first thought I was doing something. It was like that for a few months before they didn't grill me on it, since I had started getting used to. I was able to control the urge to hurt people and other things and I wasn't overly boastful. I tried to act like I usually would, it was hard for a while, I just had this rush of energy and wanted to like, I don't know I must sound like Russia here. I wanted to conquer everything and like rule the whole fucking world.  
>To be honest the only thing that kept me from trying was mi Lovi; I didn't want him to be mad at me and have no chance at all with him. I have worked so hard at getting him to like me, he wouldn't even have a normal conversation with me at first. We can have a civilizied conversation and I don't want to ever lose that.; ever. If we keep making progress maybe he will hug me or let me hold him when he cries. So that one day he would be mine, and mine alone; so that he would never be in pain again so that I could hold him and protect him from all the evil things that are out there. It hurt more than his rejections to see him cry. He remembered the first time his cries trully affected me<br>_  
>"What the FUCK happened you tomato brained bastard!" He cried out glaring at me, tears threatening to spill over the corners of his beautiful green jem eyes. I was able to see him, holding back the mouth in a flat line, I could hear his whimpering all way from the other side of the room, it was weird he wasn't out right crying. He was holding it back which was quite abnormal from his usual behavior, walking over the broken shards that covered the foor. I could feel the glass pricking the bottom of my feet not enough to bleed though, maybe a scratch or two from the edges. When I was walking over to him I could feel the alcohol taking affect, as the world seemed to tilt and twirl, Romano always in the center. As I drew closer his resolved seemed to be breaking, his lip began to quiver and the tears becoming more prominent. They had begun to spill from the corners of his eyes, he was doing what he could not to open his mouth, it seemed as though his silent cries were unheard by me. As I reached my hand out to caress his cheek, I could feel him stiffen under the palm of my hand. The wet tears that streamed down his face pooled at the edge of my hand, I could feel his face move I assumed he was grimacing at me. When I looked though he wasn't grimacing he was speaking to me, "Get the FUCK away from me you g-god damn bas-bastard." His voice shook as he spoke, he stuttered instead of crying. <em>

_It was wierd instead of just brushing off his tears, they; made me want to hold him. I bent down and looked him in the eye, he may seemed to be only ten years old, for all these years I would just give him a tomate or churros. Such simple things and he would stop crying, but now those things won't work. I crouched down and held him, I felt a burning feeling in my chest as soon as I grasped him in my arms. This did not seem to cease his tears, now I could feel them but I could not hear him; suddenly there was a sharp pang on my chest. Instinctly I let Romano go, ''OW! What did yo-" _

_"SHUT UP! YOU GOD DAMNED FUCKING BASTARD! DON'T YOU DARE EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!" He called out his eyes squinted together to try and hold back the now flooding tears, that continued to flow down his face. "DO-DON'T EV-EVE-EVER TOUCH ME-E AGAIN!" Were the last words he said before he ran out the back door, he did not hesitate in running away, now I wondered what it was that I had done wrong. I opened my shirt and saw small teeth marks in an oval shape, right over where my heart was._

just the memory made my eyes water. It had taken me months to figure out what I had broken, and quite a few weeks to find him. He had been hiding out in the church, the bishop had told me that he had been praying to God as well as fasting. Declaring that he must have sinned to have such hardships on him, to have something so important stolen away from him. I had smashed the one gift his grandfather had given to him not as South Italy and Rome, but as family, it had been a hand made vase by him. With simple drawings carved into it's sides, flowers and swirls but when you looked it as quite intricate all the swirls and lines had spelt out his name. Romano, and I had destoyed it the one thing he had gotten from his grandfather and he was; dead never able to make him anything more or give a hug tell him a story nothing. I had stolen that from him, I knew then that I would never be able to face his tears, without having to hold back my own.

That is why I have to clean up this mess, and buy a new table before he gets over here. Rising to my feet I called for my maid, "Aquilla! Yo nesecisto su ayuda, en la sala." I heard her foot steps lightly walk towards me, I turned and saw her there. She was a beautiful woman but I never felt any sexual attraction to her, even though she was one of those girls that unknowingly would start school fights. Her long brown hair that she always kept in a braid over her left shoulder, and dark brown almost black almond shaped eyes. Also as Frances would say _'quite a beautiful bosom,' _ I could feel her looking at me waiting for me to present her with a task. "Aquilla yo nesecito tú limpiar la sala y compras un nueva mesa, verdad." I spoke to her fluently, she scanned the room slightly hesitating when she spotted the cocaine stewn across the floor."Sí señor Carreido." She replied tilting her head down and curtsying as a sign of respect, before scampering off into the other room to fetch the cleaning supples. I left the room as well but I headed into a different room, to be specific I headed to my bedroom.

As soon as I was in the room I stripped off my shirt and shorts,and crawled into bed, but when I did I hit my wrist on the bed frame. "Fuck!'' I half whispered half spoke, I looked at my bandaged wrists, and sighed the makeup was wearing you could tell that is was makeup now, even at a glance. I hope Aquilla didn't see, I knew she wouldn't go out and gossip it to anyone she was trustworthy like that. For a while she would deny it and if it happened again she may tell Gilbert or Frances and I couldn't have that. If they found out things would only get worse, Francis or Gilbert my 'let it slip,' when they are drunk. Then it would be only so long before the whole world knew, then all my chances would be shot with his Lovi. That must never happen, I have worked so hard just to get this far, but I don't know if I would be able to do it all again. Relive all of those tears, unable to calm him, just watching him cry, cry all of his fears, out, all the sadness escaping through those tears.

Aquilla POV~

When I had gotten my overcoat and found 's wallet I was ready to go, if only would stop breaking things and stop it with all the drugs. What if or found out? Than would be in quite alot of trouble, I had only been working for him for 4 years, and I just recently found out his was snorting an illegal drug. Of all the things I had thought so well of , I had thought that he was such a kind man, that he was a God sent. Well it seems everyone is harboring a darker side, with a sigh I cracked open 's bedroom door. Peeking in I saw him, his shoulders hunched his head down low, "Sr. Carreido?" I whispered lightly recieving no acknoledgement, I walked up to him, tip toeing to his person. Bending down to look his in the eyes, they were blank his once bright green eyes a dark and dangerous color. Empty, mouthing a silent conversation, and tears flowing down his face matching his words, I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes. Tilting my head down as he did I saw it makeup covering his forearms, I licked the tip of my forefinger and lightly slid my finger down the length if his forearm, and I could see the white bandages that lat under neath.

~~ TIME LAPSE~~

I trudged down the streets, pulling my coat closer to my chest. It was not cold out, it was tourist season and today was a prime day for them. The sun shined down on the land, and the wind blew through the town lazily. I could hear the laughing people of different cultures, and feel their happiness radiating off of them onto me, but it did not affect me. It only made me frown even more, now I knew the reason Mr. Carreido would always have someone else leave the home for him. If he was deppressed enough to be in the state he was in, I would never want to leave the hosue either. But I am going to help him, I am going to make it were he can come outside of the mansion and smile for real, were he will not have to hide his misery from the world. Since it won't exist anymore.

ME POV~

Aquilla trudged through the crowds of people that seemed to open before her, she was headed somewhere with a purpose. She had this look in her eyes that she just discovered something crucial to the point of life, which was not all is as it seems. She had finally seen Antonio Carreido as he truly was not the working Spain or the false pretense of a happy spaniard. Even though she felt as though she had been stabbed in the back by the one she loved the most, for she may not know it but she had developed feelings for the deppressed country. As she made her way through the busy crowd, Antonio had finally snapped out of his world.

Antonio sat on the edge of his bed, blinking away the tears in his eyes, he did not even know that he had been crying. His vision was a little blurred around the edges but all in all he was good. His head was pounding mercilessly against his skull. He did not want to deal with this right now, he remembered how he had to change the bandages on his forearms. He rose from the bed his limbs were all stiff, he walked to the bathroom his movements jerky. Not bothering to look into the mirror he began to peel the bandages off of one of his arms, depoisting them in the trash can, when he removed the tape, he noticed a long white line down were the bandages were located. The first thing to cross his mind "Aquilla."

Said woman after ordering the table, trying her best not to raise any suspicions to Antonio, for she knew he was a bright and calculating man. Also when Mr. Vargas would visit later today he would get mad and ask where the table was at. That was a problem Mr. Vargas coming he would most likely make much more deppressed and anxious. He possibly may be the cause, as soon as that thought had come she denied it, because he was one of those people who no one really liked.; 'Especially me.' With great pace she picked up her speed and pushed her way through a small crowd of tourists, slightly shoving the elderly people from her path, cutting through them all. She new she would have to find the pay phone soon and call either or Mr. Beilschmidt, they had been friends with Mr. Carreido for oh such a long time. Even though she may not know it they had been friends for hundreds of years, as countries and on a humane level. They didn't just trade resources, or ideas; they traded stories and sometimes problems. They even came up with a group name for themselves, _The Bad Touch Trio_ was what they called themselves for their seduction skills over women.

With a grace and speed only someone inhuman could posses Antonio, bolted from his house. This was what he believed the first time in a few months he had willing entered his own towns, he could feel the sun on his skin, and the breeze lifting the edges of his hair ever so lightly. It was so weird for him, to feel a breeze brushing over the flesh of his forearms; for they had always been covered by bandages, makeup and the sleeves of his shirts. He did not have time to stop and ponder such things though as he had to reach Aquilla before she reached a bussiness or store that would actually allow her to use their phone. If his suspicions were correct she was either going to call Gilbert or Francis and spill alll te secrets that he knew he could not have that. No one was able to find out, especially not them. Soon he saw her leaving a local grocery store, before scampering off down the sreet, 'Looking for free phone use' Antonio thought sourly. He had, had her as his number one maid for about 2 years, so many had just came and gone. Aquilla had stayed because she had said that she enjoyed the work. He didn't want to have to fire her over this, but he couldn'y have her go and tell anyone his secret. Antonio was drawing closer to the unsuspecting house maid, when he was within arm's reachhe grasped her tightly and pulled her into one of the alleyways. He covered her mouth, whispering into her ear lightly "Lo siento." Before he put her into a state of drifting conciousness.

Toni POV~  
>I looked out the door of the bathroom at Aquilla laid out on the bed, she was curled up as a small child would when sleeping. It was adorable, and quite temting to take her, since it has been a while since I had any release. But I have too much respect for her, I don't think I would ever be able to do something like that to her. Aquilla was like a little siser to me, doing something like that would be just wrong on so many levels. I will use it to threaten her as a last resort, nothing more I musn't let it happen. I must save myself for my Romano I may not be able to be truly saved just for him, but I will as much as I can. It may have only been a few months before when I had come to terms with it but I will keep it that way.<p>

Staggering into the bathroom I looked to the sink, the knife was still in the porcelien bowl. Walking over I looked into the sink; staring at it, it had captivated me. How it seemed to shine and gleem in this dark fear that engulfed my body. I did not know it but I had picked up the knife, holding it close to my face I laid it on my cheek. I closed my eyes this was my life line the one thing keeping me from just jumping off of the edge into a dark bliss. That would keep me from this world, and all this drama and complications that it held. Letting all of the worries and pain from the simple object that lay in my hand, it would cause me no pain, no grief. Unlike oh so many things in this world.

ME POV~

Antonio held the knife in his hand, looking at it with a calm expression engulfing his features. His movements were that of a robot's, as he slid the knife across his sking lightly. Only enough to irritate the skin. A light pinkish line over his skin, he began to calmly rub it back and forth over his forearm; eyes closed as he hummed a random tune that was pulled from the depths of his soul. It had no rythme but it was part of him, something that was all his own. His skin became steadily more irritated and began to burn, from the expression in his eyes you could tell nothing not even the pain he was feeling. It did not seem to cross his mind that blood began to rise to the surface, and color the knife lightly with it's crimson joy. An escape, unknowingly Antonio scraped harder and faster against his skin the red coloring his arms. A color he oh so despised, he began to cut and slash at it, it only seemed to grow with it. Trying to rid himself of his terror he began to rub it on his other arm, and red soon painted both of his forearms. A little idea squirmed it's way into his find, following it he lick at the growing red covered acrossed his arms, it grew but much slower now. He not like the taste of red it was, he could not think of it anything to describe it in his foggy mind.

He was like a cat lapping at the red liquid, he began to like the taste and yearned for more. Sitting on the counter top facing towards the room were a woman lay on the bed beginning to stir. He cut deeper now, unable to stop himself. It was only natural for him it would seem, from the look of pure content on his face. The woman who lay on the bed blinked away the drowsiness from her eyes, and rose slowly, unaware of the man releasing streams of red from his body a mere 15 feet away. She turned though and saw him, rising slowly her eyes wide and her lip quivering as she ran at him, it seemed like years to her. She knew now that it was real and not some fearful rumor her mind created to play with her head, that Antonion wasn't just hurt doing gardening or something. That this pain was self inflicted.

She reached her hand out to him, as he looked up at her, blank eyes; the smae as when she had found him silently crying. Only now the tears that should have been streaming down his face, weren't. She swiped at the knife in his hand, knocking it out of his grasp and into the bathtub. A line of red began flowing from her as well, only hers was on her hand. Spain's eyes lightened and the tears began to well up. As he fell into her warm and welcoming arms.

A/N: :3 It was dramatic but if you point out I will go back and fix it~  
>Spanish: <em>Mis Dios<em> - My God

Aquilla! Yo nesecisto su ayuda, en la sala - Aquilla! I need your help in the livingroom

Aquilla yo nesecito tú limpiar la sala y compras un nueva mesa, verdad - Aquilla I need you to clean the livingroom and buy a new table, right.

Sí señor Carreido - Yes

Lo siento - I'm sorry

THANK YOU TO

lunynha ~ It is a developing one I hope this may help clear it up even just a little bit

kirin-saga ~ Thank you for understanding ^^ alot of my friends didn't get it at first but after I explained and it is what is under the surface that matters

mchllcam11 ~ thank you as do I (and i cosplay him Dx lol )

Anya-Chan17 ~ I shall when ever I can...

I love reviews they make me feel special~


End file.
